Words & Photos Ronald Turnbull

December 03 2009

When a chill northerly airstream brings hard frost and several inches of snow, what’s a walker to do? Well, a lot of walking, obviously. But also, with the hills smeared and sculpted in white like a freshly iced Christmas cake under the fairy lighting of a pink winter sun, a lot of photography.

And all this to be contained within a day where the sun’s up for only seven hours. Seven hours isn’t long enough to get properly tired out but a single hill isn’t going enough for what looks like the best hill day in a long time. So I decided to go for Blencathra – but also, at the same time, Skiddaw.

Short winter days have one advantage: you can crawl out of the car park at the almost civilised hour of half past seven, and still be high by sunrise. Sharp Edge loomed above, grim and grey above a mauve skyline. The ridge duly appeared, looking pinkly embarrassed at being caught unawares so early in the morning. Legs and tripod then worked hard gathering pictures.

I left Blencathra about noon, already worrying about the holding capacity of my camera’s memory card. Blencathra is not like Kylie Minogue: Blencathra’s backside is pretty unattractive. But I wanted pictures of it anyway in these special conditions, so I headed down by Mungrisdale Common to Skiddaw House. It was almost a relief to be stepping freely along the icy track with no particular pictures to take. That is, until I got to Bakestall, to see the shining Solway, and Blencathra’s snow-draped backside looking, it has to be said, almost sexy.

You can’t have everything. After a day of such crystal clear air, I could expect only a nondescript, fade-out sort of sunset. Well, I was wrong about that. Seen from Little Man, Derwent Water was an orange hole in a black-and-snowy landscape, all lying below a sky the colour of egg yolks and summer marigolds. Grisedale Pike was black against orange, flame colours in reverse. The sea was as lurid as the sky; and between the two floated the Isle of Man like grey smoke.

Little Man, sadly, is three hours of night walking from the foot of Mousthwaite Comb. But here’s the second advantage of a short winter’s day. After catching dusk-and-orange images of Helvellyn and Thirlmere from Lonscale Fell – and struggling down through the snow-covered heather in the last glimmerings of the day – and fumbling about in the dark on Latrigg for the streetlight photo of Keswick… after all that, you can stride for two hours in the darkness along the old Keswick railway and through Threlkeld, and still be back at Scales in time to catch an evening bar meal.

Distance: 19.5 miles/31km Ascent: 5200ft/1550m Time: about 10 hours Start/finish: layby on south side of A66 at Scales (GR: NY 343268) Map: Ordnance Survey 1:50,000 Landranger sheet 90 (Penrith & Keswick, Ambleside) Information: LDNPA Information Centre, Keswick, 017687 72645

Technical Spec
Take lane NE above Scales, then path up Mousthwaite Comb and above Glenderamackin to Scales Tarn. Ignore path and take slope SE onto Scales Fell for ridge W to Blencathra summit. N over Atkinson Pike, then cross Mungrisdale Common and head W to Skiddaw House track (gate at NY 294287). Track NW to top of Whitewater Dash. Spur to Bakestall, and ridges over Skiddaw and Little Man to Lonscale Fell. Down SE to good path contouring W to car park. S up Latrigg, then paths E to Brundholme track and old railway. Railway track along River Greta one mile, then up through Threlkeld onto bike lane NE. A66 pavement to Scales.